But What Do I Know?

Do you know the answer?

Boundaries start to swirl, producing a miss-match of dissolute emotions inside the stout man’s mind, moving him towards the incandescent white doorway; one which once offered the commodity of purification. He is constantly changing mind-sets to capture the lingering times of plain, unrelenting happiness. Happiness not muddled by the possessiveness of immodest greens; not watered down by the sight of a pale-blue. It is a quest for the simplest of emotions, one only befitting a simple man.

Transitioning, the time of day waddling into rest, only to have its hollowness filled with a pitch-black night sky, one which spends its hours swallowing the flickering yellow lights in the horizon; an empty catalyst for white-washed memories fading into nostalgia. He doesn't think much of it at first, reveling in the new-found peace, free from freight in this emotionless void, but, then again, he does find himself reminiscent of the once vivid colours which filled that lonely sky.

Sectioned into broken pieces, his mind wanders to better days at better times, his reality waning, struggling to stay relevant in a world which is so gradually becoming obsessive with its own sub-conscious. He isn't alone. Instead, he convinces himself that he wears a proud golden crown, and becomes ruler of his own reality. Perhaps this is a quest for justice, the inception of a messiah for a world lost without one.

Lost without hope…

In the middle of this hectic scene lies just one constant glow in the dark, one which cannot be swallowed or absorbed or contained or harmonized or distracted from its goal. The full moon sways, gently comforting those mourning for the loss of the oft romanticized day, keeping the alone lonely and making sure they don’t forget it. The full moon waves, but considering your current state of mind, this lack of emancipation probably makes it feel more like an ending rather than a beginning. Hajimari no owari.

Wasting the night, the downtrodden boy regresses further into the confines of his own personal prison cell, pretending that its bars are for his protection rather than to keep him from freedom. He doesn’t really experience the miracles of nature going on around him, despite being the sole witness. Locks and chains keep him from living. Locks and chains protect him from dying. Just a hollow man, content with only the emptiness and dissolution of fate, that’s all he is.

What is the answer to this man’s sorrows? Ask yourself if he deserves one, ask yourself if you would deserve one if you were in his situation. Just listen to the quiet creaking of the night; the sudden jolt which brings forth its counterpart; there you’ll find the answer. If you find it, consider its power, learn that you would never be able to word your answer, learn that those organized, meaningless letters are never meant to be conjoined and articulated in that way. That child, he is not able to hear you now anyway.

A pitch-black night sky, slowly swallowing the only surviving light in the district.

Author's Note

I was going to write more, but honestly I think It's best to leave it at this.